Face Down
by liveforthefight
Summary: What if Raph wasn't who we thought he was... Would take place midway through season 3 I guess... M/M, completely Anti-Raph. Angst, suspense, romance eventually. Strong T for language and subject matter. Mentions of Rape/ Torture.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: The muses are a b$&%, that's all I can say….. Sorry to all my other readers, I'm not even sure if I have other stories that are demanding updates anymore, but this is my latest craze. Sigh. Hopefully I actually finish this story, and hopefully this one turns out as planned. I'm hoping to make this a decent-length M/M fic with a fair amount of Anti-Raph involved… I'm completely ignoring all of season four and most of season three by the way. In fact, I doubt there's going to be much tie in with any specific episodes at all…but it'll be interesitng. I also have another fic on the back burner for you all to look forward to Oh yeah, and this chapter might be total crap. Stay with me, I wrote it at 1:30 AM.

Disclaimer: Frankly, I hate these. If I owned IPS, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction would I? Don't sue me, I don't have anything worth suing over anyway. If you're that interested in my stories, hire me instead!

ON WITH THE SHOW!

Mary Shannon turned into her driveway after another long day of coddling scumbags who didn't deserve a second chance at life but got one anyway with one thought on her mind- _Raph._ She knew she was in for yet another round of verbal sparring with the man, since she hadn't called him back all day, and was going to have to deal with his ridiculous barnacle act again, which she was again in absolutely no mood for.

Which is why when she walked in the door, she did so looking for a fight. And she wasn't disappointed.

She had barely shut the front door behind her when a torpedo with a Spanish accent came flying at her, moving too fast to be distinguishable as her _ugh…_ fiance. "Mary! Querida! Where have you been? I've been calling you all day! I was worried about you!"

He pulled her into a too-tight embrace, and Mary could instantly smell the alcohol on his breath, a skill well honed from years of practice with her mother. "Raph, calm down. I was working, and I couldn't take calls. I'm fine. See?" she gestured at her body in a sweeping motion, "No bullet holes."

The expression on Raph's face changed instantly from one of concern to one of anger. "Oh," he said shortly, "I see. So once again, one of your 'witnesses' is more important than me? Is that it?"

"First of all," Mary's tone grew quiet now, but dark with barely supressed rage, "for the millionth time Raph, you cannot talk about my job like that. There are other people in this house, people who cannot know what I do for a living without compromising my, and by association, yours, theirs, and my partner's safety. Do you understand that? Second, yes, my job is sometimes going to be more important to me than taking every single phone call from you. In case you hadn't realized it, my job was in my life long before you were, and it isn't going away."

"Your 'partner' huh? I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you dragged him into this, seeing as how you care about him more than me anyway. Honestly Mary, half the time I wonder whether you actually care about your job, or if you're just using that to cover up the fact that you're fucking him on the side. " The alcohol was fueling Raph's words by now, though the slurring of his speech wasn't quite enough to cover up thehonest feelings behind his words.

Mary, without thinking, slapped him across the face. "Don't you ever insinuate things about Marshall and I again fuckwit, no matter how much you've had to drink, and don't you dare pretend that you're the one justified in questioning the faithfulness of the other when throughout this entire relationship you've been the only one who's cheated."

Raph stumbled from the blow, and the intoxication, but kept his footing, and managed to have the sense to look hurt. "Mary, you know that was a one time thing, and that I'd never have an affair. I thought you'd forgiven me?"

Mary, however, didn't buy the act for one moment. "No, Raph, you don't get to be the injured party here, and you really don't get to try to manipulate me like that and expect it to work. Besides, you know damn well I forgave you, or else your ass would be out on the street, and I wouldn't be wearing this goddamn ring. Now, enough with this bullshit. I'm going to bed. You are going to sleep this off on the couch, because honestly I don't think I can be in the same bed as you right now. We'll talk in the morning when you're conscious enough to remember a word I say."

The spanish man wasn't done yet though. He grabbed her arm and she had to bite down a gasp of pain so she wouldn't show the drunken man what he was doing to her. "Do not delude yourself into thinking you can control what I do Mary. This conversation will be over when I say it is." He clamped down even harder on her arm, and she knew that come morning she would have a horrible bruise.

"I have a gun, and the authority to arrest you right now for assault on a US Marshal," Mary stated, forcing her voice to stay calm and level so as not to betray the twinge of fear she felt from the crazy look in Raph's eye "I suggest you back off before you end up in jail for twenty to life."

Raph said nothing more, and having apparently given up, slouched over to the couch where he collapsed, snoring instantly. Mary sighed, and pulled a blanket over him once she was sure he was out and going to stay that way for a good long time. _He's gonna feel like shit in the morning_, she thought to herself with a small smile, _serves him right. _

Mary then climbed into bed as well, and willed herself not to think about the strange tone in her fiance's voice during their exchange, or the throbbing in her arm from his grip on her. He had never been physically violent before, so she tried to pass it off as nothing. _If he tries it again though, I'll cut off his balls and feed them to him for breakfast. Hopefully there is no "again." _Mary wouldn't admit it to anyone, but in those hours between her argument with Raph and when her alarm went off to wake her for work, and unnecesary task considering she was already wide awake, she couldn't help but feel a deep, intense fear of the man who in several months would be her husband. 

*** The next Morning***

Mary stumbled into the Sunshine building twenty minutes late, exhausted from a night of stress-induced insomnia and the argument that had taken more out of her than she had anticipated. She had barely crossed the threshold of the WITSEC office when Marshall remarked "Jesus, you look like someone tied you up and dragged you through hell three or four times before running you over with an eighteen wheeler."

Mary had just enough energy to raise an eyebrow and quip back "Thanks doofus, you know just what to say to a girl."

Marshall was somewhat comforted by that response, but not quite placated yet. Rather than airing what could possibly be a shitstorm's worth of dirty laundry knowing Mary, for the entire office to see, he sent her a text: "**You Okay?"**

Mary's phone vibrated a minute or two later, and with a semi-audible groan of annoyance, she picked her head up off her desk and read her text, and quickly replied before slumping back over. "**No sleep. Long night.**"

Marshall looked at his partner with an extreme sense of unease. Her short text message reply conveyed more than anyone without the bond they shared would have picked up on. Something had her rattled, and he knew it wasn't just your average night of insomnia. He also knew that the most obvious answer is often right, so he went with the simplest question. "**Raph?**"

He honestly wasn't sure whether to be hopeful, or furious, at that idea. Hopeful that the engagement got broken off, because then maybe Mary could go back to being herself, instead of the person she was forcing herself to be around the Domincan man. Furious, because if he found out that Raph was hurting her, there would be nothing stopping him from killing the man slowly and painfully for hurting his…for hurting Mary.

She looked up at her phone groggily, and replied again. "**Bit of a disagreement. No big deal. Don't worry.**"

He was worried though. A "disagreement" wouldn't be enough to keep Mary from sleeping, or make her this out of it. Something bigger was going on, and he knew he wasn't going to get it out of her through text messaging, so he stood up, walked over to her desk, and shook her arm slightly. To his complete shock, she yelped, apparently in pain, at the contact. "Okay, we're going to get some breakfast," he announced loud enough that Stan would hear him. "Come on Mare," he said more quietly. When she resisted, he mentioned the awaiting coffee and pancakes, which got her on her feet and stumbling down to their usual breakfast location.

Once they ordered, Marshall started up the conversation that Mary knew was coming, but really didn't want to have. And he went straight for the mark too. "Okay, why don't we start with the most obvious question and work our way backwards? What happened to your arm?"

She gave him her classic back-the-hell-off-or-I'll-shoot-you look, and when that didn't work she sighed in resignation. "Just a bruise…" she muttered.

He took her wrist lightly in her hand and said "Show me." When she made no move to resist him, and merely looked resigned, he became truly concerned, but didn't show it in his face. He rolled up her sleeve gently to reveal a clearly defined, hand shaped bruise snaking its way around her arm. "Jesus Mary… did Raph do this?"

Mary rolled her sleeve back down, hissing in pain as she brushed against the offending mark. Then, when she could put it off no longer, she replied. "Yeah, he did," she paused, noting the growing anger in his features and reminded herself to keep an eye on him for a few hours to make sure he didn't do anything that would land him in jail. "But he was drunk," she hurriedly added, "and he had no idea what he was doing. I had already bitch slapped him, and he was pissed. Besides, it's never happened before, and it won't happen again."

The fact that her last sentence had a condescending note to it that held all of her normal fire gave Marshall a fair amount of hope, but didn't ease his anxiety in the slightest. "Mary, that doesn't make it okay."

Mary was finally awake enough to deal with the conversation in full force. "Damnit Marshall, I know that. I'm not exactly planning on letting him push me around. Like I said, I'm sure it was a one time thing, and I'm going to rip him a new one for it later, although I'm sure he doesn't even remember it now. Don't worry, I'm okay."

"Are you trying to convince me, Mary, or both of us?" Marshall asked gently, knowing the answer but wanting to force Mary to look inside of herself and realize the truth as well.

_Both of us,_ she thought to herself, before responding, "I'm trying to convince you not to shoot my fiance's balls off Marshall. Really, if I get the slightest hint of anything weird from him again, ever, he'll be sitting on the curb with all that's left of his possessions. And he's damn well gonna know that before tonight's over."

Marshall softened a bit. He didn't like the situation, but he also realized that he had a tendency to be overprotective towards his partner, and that his feelings for her could blind him. He knew that he didn't like Raph, but he also was smart enough to realize that there is such a thing as doing something stupid when you're drunk without it being a repeating thing. "You need backup?"

Mary put all of her will into smiling at her partner. "No, thanks Marshall. I'll be fine."

He nodded at her before looking her over again. "Look, you aren't gonna be much use to anyone at work today, why don't you go home? Sort things out with Raph, then go to sleep. I'll cover for you with Stan."

A surge of fear coursed through Mary at the thought of going home, but she fought it down before it could stop her from accepting her partner's offer. If she declined, it would raise more questions, and she really didn't want to deal with that. _I can go home_, she thought,_ he'll probably have sobered up by now anyway. We can talk, and things can go back to normal. _"Okay, I guess I will. Thanks Marshall."

She paid her half of the check and started to walk away when Marshall caught up with her. "Call me. You know, if you need anything," he stated as he walked her to her car.

She nodded, and forced herself to smile again. "I will. Thanks again."

A/N: Okay, in case you didn't catch on, words in **BOLD** are sent via text, and words in _ITALICS_ are thoughts. Please forgive me if this is short, or full of spelling errors, etc. I worked on it from 1:30 am to 2:45 am, and it's a Wednesday night. Not the ideal time for producing quality work, but the muse just would not leave me alone.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers, you guys make my day. Fair warning though, if you didn't like the first chapter, you might want to find a different fic. This isn't going to be any more your cup of tea as it goes along. Thanks in particular to BuJyo for reading and reviewing, the way I see it you're the best of the best when it comes to IPS fics, and I'm honored that you like my story! 

Mary began her drive home and tried to keep her hands from shaking ever so slightly as they gripped the wheel. _Get your head together Shannon_. _This is RAPH you're so freaked out about. Well mannered, nice, gentle, Raph. He had a bad night. Jesus Mary. _

She berated herself until she reached her house, then attempted to relax as best she could before opening the door. She walked in, and nothing was out of order. Raph was still snoring on the couch, so she figured she'd have nothing to worry about when he woke up.

Calmed slightly, she started cleaning up around the house, getting rid of the mess that Raph's drunken raid had made the night before. As soon as she started making any sound at all however, the man on the couch stirred and groaned slightly. "Mary? Why are you home?"

She turned to face him, trying not to show how much he had startled her. "Slow day, they sent me home." _It's not a total lie, _she thought, _and I sure as hell don't want to tell him the truth. _

He sat up slowly, rubbing his forehead and grimaced. "What happened last night?"

"Well," Mary began slowly, "Let's just say it wasn't exactly one of your best moments." He looked at her quizzically, and she continued. "You got angry, accused me of doing some things that I'm pretty sure you know I would never do, then," she rolled up her sleeves, "you gave me this."

She expected him to look surprised, or apologetic, but instead he got a strange gleam in his eye, and asked "What did I accuse you of?"

"Sleeping with Marshall, putting my job before you… You were in one hell of a mood Raph." There was a twinge of annoyance in her tone at this point, stemming from his apparently lack of remorse. But under the annoyance was a deeper question- did he really think of her like that, or was it just the alcohol talking?

He responded immediately. "Well, what's wrong with that?"

Annoyance morphed into anger at a speed that would leave most people reeling, but Mary knew exactly how to take it in stride. "What's wrong with it, Raph, is that you're my fiancé, and you're supposed to trust me. And you're supposed to respect me enough to let me have my job without you going off the deep end about it."

Raph took a step towards her, finally seeming to battle back the hangover enough to be able to stand. "I can't help but notice, Mary, that in that statement of yours you never once denied the truth in what I said."

She scoffed incredulously. "Are you kidding me? You don't trust me at all, do you?"

"Trust?" He asked, "How can I possibly trust you? You're gone 15 hours a day, you get home, eat, sleep, and if I'm lucky you have enough time to have sex with me. That isn't exactly a good baseline for trust."

She looked carefully at him, trying to gauge his rapidly changing mood. "Then why did you ask me to marry you?"

He hesitated, then lowered his tone slightly, "because I thought if you were willing to commit yourself to marrying me, maybe you would change your ways knowing that you belonged to me."

"So," she stated, barely getting the words out, "you thought that you could make me your property, and somehow by doing so you could convince me to quit my job, become a homemaker, and have a white picket fence with 2.5 kids, is that right?"

He apparently wasn't smart enough to back down. "Yes, Mary, that's what I thought. And it's what I thought you would want- someone to take care of you so you wouldn't have to take care of yourself anymore."

"Take care of me Raph? Really? Like you did last night?" Mary's anger was no less strong, but she didn't want to incite the wrath of the man in front of her, not sure anymore who he was or what he was capable of.

He took another step towards her, and she knew if he took one more step he would be within swinging distance. "I don't remember much about last night, Mary, but I know that if I did that to you, I'm sure you deserved it. And it's an important lesson for you to learn. If you aren't going to obey me like a wife should, then you're going to get hurt."

Mary went to take a step back, before realizing that she was up against the kitchen counter and really hand nowhere to go except to one side or another. _Shit, backed into a corner, and I really can't let that comment go either. This isn't going to end well. _"Raph," she said calmly, "I am never going to obey you, so if that's what you want in a wife, I think you should take your things and go."

The strange gleam in his eye from before grew stronger as his face grew darker with rage. "How dare you try to kick me out of our house? You will learn better Mary, no matter how long it takes."

He took that last step forward, and Mary hedged her bets and dove to the side, running away from the man as fast as she could, trying to knock obstacles into his path as she dodged other fallen objects in her house that she had yet to pick up. "Calm the fuck down Raph," she stated once he had tripped over a lamp cord, "This isn't a fight you're gonna win, and I don't really want to arrest your ass for assaulting a federal marshal. Do yourself a favor and get the hell out of my house."

He stood up, and looked somewhat meek, making some part of her think that he was no longer a threat- which is why she wasn't at all ready for it when he tackled her football style and forced her to the ground. "Good luck arresting me Mary, we both know I'm stronger than you, and that you're only going to get out of here when I let you."

She gasped for breath under the full weight of the 200 pound man, built of pure muscle. "Okay, okay," she conceded, "Jesus Raph, just let me up."

He glared at her. "Shut up. I'm not done with you." Mary wasn't the type to take orders from anyone, but she was smart enough to know when she was in no position to argue, and this was one of those times. The man could easily kill her in this position if he wanted to, and there was nothing she could do about it, so she shut up and waited for the blows to land.

She didn't have to wait long. He punched her repeatedly, she eventually lost track of the blows. She fought to get her hands back to at least deflect some of the blows, but he had them trapped with his legs, and with his weight on her chest, she really couldn't move. So eventually she just blocked out the pain, no stranger to taking a beating after all of Jinx's deadbeat boyfriends from her childhood. She would always let the douchebag of the week at her so he wouldn't go near Brandi, who was younger and more easily broken- in all senses of the word.

Some amount of time- it could've been five minutes, or it could've been an hour, later, he stood up. "Get up" he said, wrapping his arm tightly around her throat so that if she struggled she would instantly be choked. She complied, knowing there was no other choice.

Just as she had gotten her feet under her, she noticed that he loosened his grip slightly. Capitalizing on his moment of weakness, she ducked out of the hold and kneed him in the groin, starting to run again. The blow knocked him over for just long enough that she could run out of her house, grabbing her cell phone and gun off the front table as she went.

Mary ran for as long as her legs would carry her, which wasn't very long considering the damage to her body done by Raphael in his insane quest to teach her a lesson, but it was far enough that she was sure he wasn't following her. She stopped and sat down where she was, which happened to be a curb near a city park. "Marshall…."she gasped out, and remembered the phone that was clutched in a death grip in her hand. As soon as she had enough breath she dialed.

"Did you know that the origin of a-" Marshall answered, but was cut off.

"Marshall…" Mary managed painfully, the adrenaline surge wearing off, and the pain finally seizing the opportunity to take over.

His tone changed at once, as he read the undertones in his name. "Mary? Where are you? Can you tell me what's going on?"

Mary looked around her, not fully recognizing her surroundings, though she knew she should. Finally she got her bearings enough to see a sign. "Uh…Spaulding Park…Can you pick me up?"

He had already reached his car by the time she asked the question. "Absolutely. Five minutes. Are you safe until then? Do you need EMS?"

She thought over the questions, and couldn't figure out why they seemed so confusing. "I think so…."

He could tell something was seriously wrong, her voice was off pitch and she seemed disconnected from reality. "To which part Mare?"

_Why does he keep pushing me? Doesn't he understand that I'm confused…? _"I'm safe….I don't think I need an ambulance… you can tell me when you get here."

Marshall drove as if traffic laws were optional at best, and as if his best friend's life hung in the balance. For all he knew, it could very well. "I'm almost there Mary, stay on the line with me, okay?"

She nodded, but then somehow common sense prodded her into realizing that he couldn't see her. "Mhmmm" she managed, trying to figure out what was wrong with her that she couldn't seem to concentrate on anything.

A minute or two later- such trips are a lot faster than they should be when you drive on curbs and take stop lights as a 'suggestion'- Marshall's SUV pulled up, parking near where Mary sat. She hauled herself up to greet him, but her plan went pear-shaped when saw spots in front of her vision, and found herself surrounded by blackness, and the sound of Marshall's voice.

He watched her stand, and ran to her as she fell, catching her just before she hit the ground. He talked to her and stroked her hand in an effort to wake her, and as he did he took stock of what he saw. She was covered in newly blossoming bruises over every inch of skin that he could see, and was pale white from fainting. "Jesus Mary," he said softly, "You look like you belong in the morgue."

Of course that was the moment that she chose to come too, murmuring, "Thanks asshole, you're no sight for sore eyes either."

He couldn't manage a snarky response, he was just glad she was responsive, and as much in character as possible. "Okay, how about we get you into the SUV?" he asked, although there wasn't much room for discussion. He knew she wouldn't want to make a scene in front of anyone who happened to be walking by, and also knew that she was probably overheated from sitting, and apparently running, in the arid Albuquerque weather.

She nodded, and he helped her up. He knew that she'd have to be unconscious again in order to let him carry her, and thus didn't argue, instead supporting as much of her weight as she'd let him.

He got her settled, then asked "Can you tell me what happened?" though he had a feeling he already knew.

She took a deep breath, and thought it over for a minute. The events that had taken place moments ago seemed much farther away, and everything seemed disjoint. "I…I'm not sure…"

He watched her ponder the events, and tried to figure out if she was in shock or if she potentially had a concussion. Either seemed possible, so he decided to just go with it and figure it out later. "Okay, that's okay. Let's work through it together. What did you do when you left the office?"

She thought about it, then answered. "I went home, like you told me to."

He smiled encouragingly at her, wanting to keep her talking. "Good, that's good. What happened when you got there?"

"I… I got home, and Raph was asleep on the couch… So I started cleaning up, you know, because he'd made a mess of my house last night, but then he woke up…" She stopped, trying to order the events properly.

Marshall, on the other hand, was pretty sure he understood things perfectly. "Did you have a fight?" he prompted, and gauging her reaction he could tell he was headed in the right direction.

She nodded, then winced as the motion caused a sharp pain to shoot through her head. "Yeah. It started out verbal, then he got really pissed off when I told him I wasn't going to obey his every whim, and that if that's what he wanted then he could leave. He said it was his house too, and that he was going to teach me a lesson…." She stopped again, but not because she couldn't figure out what happened, because she was ashamed of what happened next, and didn't want her partner to think less of her.

Marshall, picking up on the changed tone in the pause, gently gripped her hand and stroked it with his thumb. She continued, "I ran, he tricked me then tackled me to the floor… He beat me up, then choked me. He wanted me to go somewhere with him, I don't know where. He loosened his grip for a second, and when he did I kneed him in the groin and ran like hell. I guess I ended up here."

The rage Marshall felt towards the man who had done this to His Mary welled up, but he fought it down. There would be a time for that, but this was not it. "Hey…" he said, looking her in the eyes, "You did good, okay? You got out. You're here, and you'll live to harass me another day. And we'll nail him, okay?"

She nodded again, forgetting the pain that it had caused her the first time, and wincing again. "Shit."

He looked her over in concern. He knew what happened, now it was time to assess her in earnest. "Okay Mare, what hurts, besides everything?"

She took a running subtotal, stopped at everything, and started again. "Mostly my head I guess. A lot of bruising, nothing too bad. It's gonna hurt like a bitch tomorrow when I have time to stiffen up from getting tackled by a guy the size of a tank, but I don't think there's any real damage. "

He did a quick look over of her head wounds, nothing seemed to be bad enough to indicate a concussion, but cumulatively, anything was possible. "You seem confused. Do you think it's just shock, or do you think you might have a concussion?"

She thought it over. She was dizzy and confused, but that was easily enough explained by the adrenaline and the brewing headache. She knew where she was, and when it was, so she assumed she was okay, and the confusion was already wearing off. "I think just shock, I feel more like myself now."

He nodded, convinced. "Okay. I'm gonna put in a call to Stan to have some Marshal's pick up Raph, the good news is, since you're a Marshal, it'll be a federal case. He won't see the light of day maybe ever again. Then we're going to get you back to my place, with some Tylenol and some food."

She agreed, and he stepped out of the truck to make the call, so she wouldn't hear the overwhelming rage in his voice while he relayed the quick version of events to Stan. He agreed to get Raph picked up from Mary's house, and pretty soon Mary and Marshall were on their way back to his house.

She was able to walk fully under her own power by the time they got there, which gave Marshall an overwhelming sense of relief, more proof that she was going to be okay. However, once they were inside, he made her sit down on the couch while he got some supplies together.

A few minutes later he joined her in his den with a cold washcloth, a bottle of advil, a can of Coke, and a plate of pasta with Bolognese sauce, left over from his dinner the night before. She was laying down on the sofa, watching CSI. "How the hell do you watch that stuff Mare?" he asked incredulously, "it's so fake."

She smiled "Exactly. But the characters are good."

He handed her a few pills, which she swallowed gratefully, then passed her the can of coke, pasta, and washcloth, which she immediately put on the back of her neck, decreasing the pain of her headache almost immediately. "Which character is your favorite?" he asked, knowing that now that food was involved, serious conversation would not be tolerated.

She didn't have to think that one over. "I like Sara."

He smiled to himself. Of course she liked the introverted character with the dysfunctional family who would go to hell and back for the people she cared about, or the people she charged herself with protecting. It seemed all too fitting. His smile broke, however, when he remembered that Sara burned out after a particularly traumatic experience. _I won't let that happen to Mary_, he vowed, _I'm her keeper. I'll keep her from shattering, and put her back together if she does. _

For a few minutes, everything seemed right. Then Marshall's phone rang, and everything changed.

A/N: CLIFFIE! What's the phone call going to say? And what's next for Mary and Marshall? Not to mention Raph…what do you guys want to happen to him? Stay tuned… and please review!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry for the long time in between updates guys, I've been dealing with a medical thing lately that's been consuming a lot of my time and energy. But I'm back now, apparently writing is supposed to be therapeutic, so here I am! Anyway, on with the story.

Mary exhaled heavily, looking at the expression on her partner's face as he hung up his cell phone, shutting it with a slightly harder snap than usual. "What?" she asked resignedly.

Marshall looked at her carefully, as if assessing if she would be able to handle the news. "Your…uh…ex-fiance… is in the wind."

Mary stood up and immediately began her normal stress-induced pacing routine. "How the fuck did that happen? What kind of incompetent assholes were sent to bring him in? Oh, and where the hell are they now? I swear to god I'm gonna have their balls on a platter for this. That is, if Stan doesn't get a hold of them first."

"Mary… there isn't going to be any 'getting a hold of them'… they're dead."

She stopped her pacing to look at Marshall with pure disbelief. "Wait…Raph, MY Raph, killed two US Marshalls and is now a fugitive from justice? You've gotta be fucking kidding me!" She paced faster now, running her fingers through her hair, an unconscious demonstration of how out of control her emotions were, and how much that was scaring her. "Is EVERYONE around me a goddamn criminal?"

Marshall grabbed her arm, turning her body to face him. "Mary. I promise you that I am not a criminal. Stan is not a criminal. Delia…well…I know you don't like her, but she probably isn't a criminal either. Unless of course being overly perky is a federal offense these days."

Mary smirked, Marshall's distraction working as planned. "God knows it should be…" she muttered, smiling slightly at the thought of arresting the new Marshal.

"Uh…" Marshall began, completely unwilling to say the other thing that Stan mentioned to him on the phone, but knowing that it had to come out sooner rather than later. "There's one other minor detail that needs to be addressed here."

The blonde woman raised one eyebrow at him. "What? What else could possibly be going on? Did my house get blown up in the clusterfuck or something?"

"No, nothing so dramatic. Stan simply wanted me to bring you to the office to discuss your…options."

"Options? What options?" Mary's surprise was blended with the hint of anger that was so commonplace for her.

Marshall hesitated once again, not wanting to trigger Mary's rage. "Well, Stan wants you to consider going into the program for the time being, until the threat is contained and neutralized."

Mary took two steps away from her partner, as if he was going to attempt to drag her bodily into the program from where he sat. "Oh you have GOT to be KIDDING me. I'm a mother fucking US Marshal, and he expects me to sit on my ass while other people try to round up my ex-fiance, possibly getting themselves killed in the process?" She began laughing, although the sound was less that of mirth and more closely related to her barely-held-together sanity. "It's finally happened. Stan's gone senile."

Concerned, Marshall changed his tone to one of both comfort and a small amount of authority. "Mary, look at me." He continued once she did, "Stan is not going to force you into the program. He only wanted you to consider it for your own safety. The man has met you, and I'm sure there was no doubt in his mind that you were going to react in exactly that way, but he had to make the suggestion. Either way, we really do need to go to the office. Stan wants to brief us on how we're going to go about taking this guy down."

Mary nodded, convinced. "Okay, so we go to the office. But we already know how this is gonna go. I'm gonna be bait, you guys are gonna be hiding in the background, he shows, we take him down. Boom, one less dick walking the streets, one more crazy ex in my history of having horrible taste in men."

Marshall looked at her in complete disbelief. "You actually want to leave yourself dangling on a line for Raph to take another bite out of you?"

"Are you kidding me?" Mary scoffed, "I want to do whatever is necessary to nail this bastard. He killed two marshals and tried to do god only knows what to me. No, I don't want to do this Marshall. I need to."

Ten minutes later the pair was at the office, and Stan was beginning to go over the details of the plan. As he had anticipated, Mary had vehemently refused to enter the program, and he absolutely wouldn't force her to stand by while other marshals put themselves on the line. He didn't like the idea of using her as bait any more than Marshall did, but he also understood the logic of the plan.

"Okay," he said, "here's what we're gonna do. Mary, you're going to be wearing a bug underneath your clothes. You're going to go back to your house, seemingly alone, and make it seem like you're just getting home from work like any other normal day. We figure he'll be watching your house, awaiting your return. He'll be cautious though, ready for a trap, so we have to make sure that ours is perfect. Marshall and I will be waiting a block or two away, out of sight of the house. When he enters, you need to either distract or disable him until we get there. We'll be less than five minutes away no matter what happens."

Mary took everything in with a grim smile on her face. _Five minutes can be a long time_ the pessimistic side of her brain stated. _True, _the other part, the larger and more sadistic portion replied, _but I need time to get revenge on this asshat anyway. _

She came out of her thoughts to Marshall snapping his fingers obnoxiously in front of her face. "Hey! You in there?" He asked.

She startled and replied sardonically, "no, I'm on Mars. Where do you think I'd be numbnuts?"

He brushed off her usual jibe and looked at her with concern. "Where'd you go just now?"

She smiled sadistically. "Oh, just thinking about what I'm going to do to him for a whole five minutes… You guys might want to bring a body bag… I might need to kill him in 'self defense.' Or better yet….castration…with a rusty knife… Yep. That sounds about right. So maybe just a body-part bag."

Marshall grinned. "That's my girl. Just remember not to put him in so many pieces we can't figure out what goes where. The poor medical examiner shouldn't have to deal with the results of your very unique form of rage. In the mean time, how about we get some food? We've got a few hours before you would normally go home, that gives us plenty of time before we have to install the bug."

"Hmm… I feel like… fried chicken. A lot of fried chicken."

"Done."

A/N: Okay, yes, I realize it's short… I'm sorry. I'm realizing that this story isn't going to go much further, another couple chapters most likely. It just didn't head in the direction I'd anticipated. Regardless, I have another fic on the way that promises to be longer that's gonna be anti-Abigail and actually involve a witness instead of just our favorite two marshals. So stay tuned for the wrap-up of this one, and the new one that's sure to come soon after :)

Also, as always, reviews are very very much appreciated. :)


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Okay, I know this fic fell off the grid for a while, my two-shot post S4 fic took over… It just needed to be written, because like the rest of you, I absolutely can't wait for season 5, even though it is gonna be really short and the last season :( Anyway, we're back, and if you guys remember, Mary is about to be the bait in a trap for Raph.

Mary walked into her house, full of fried chicken and confidence. _I can do this_ she repeated to herself over and over again. She had a wire on under her shirt, and Marshall in her ear, literally- she was wearing an earpiece- and she was ready.

"Mary are you sure you're okay with this?" Marshall asked for the umpteenth time, still not at all sure that the sting was a good idea.

She smiled at his concern, but made her voice sound annoyed. She couldn't deal with mush, not with what she was about to do, it would throw her off. "Jesus Marshall, how many times do we have to go over this? I want his balls on a platter, and I want to be the one to put them there. Besides, this is the best way to catch him. He killed two US Marshals. We've got to get him."

She could almost hear her lanky partner's hands go up, signaling surrender. "Well, I don't like it, but I understand it. Go get 'em Mare, we'll be close by."

Mary nodded, though Marshall couldn't see it, and walked calmly into the one room of her house that had no windows- her bathroom. There she proceeded to check her backup gun in her ankle, as well as the one in the small of her back. She double checked that her wire and earpiece were as invisible and secure as possible, then flushed the toilet in case her ex-fiance was already in the house, and exited the bathroom.

She looked around, but saw no sign of him, so she sat down on the couch to wait, turning on the TV and trying to look as absolutely normal as possible, knowing that there was a good chance she was being watched.

She didn't have long to wait. Unbeknownst to her, Raph had snuck in the front door while she was in the bathroom, and had been watching her from a back room ever since. He saw her sit down on the couch to watch tv, and once it seemed like she was relaxed and off-guard, he tiptoed over to where she was, and covered her mouth with a wet rag.

Mary had only a split second to react, and it wasn't fast enough. She smelled the sickly-sweet odor of chloroform, immediately flashing back to the last time she had a run-in with the chemical. She threw an elbow backwards, trying to break Raph's grip on her head so she could escape the fumes, but by the time she made contact everything was spinning and her blow barely grazed him.

"That's what you get…bitch." Raph muttered, just in time for Mary to hear before she lost consciousness. He didn't know, at this point, that Marshall could hear him and was hauling ass over to Mary's house, but he loaded her swiftly enough into his newly-stolen truck and was off before it could make any difference.

For the second time in a week, Marshall broke every traffic law in the book. Once he heard Raph's words, he had the car in gear and was starting to drive. When he heard no response from Mary, and no pained, Dominican-sounding screams, he exchanged a panicked look with Stan and pushed his department-issued Tahoe to its absolute limits. "MARY?" He half-screamed into the microphone, and when he heard no answer except a car door slamming through her wire, a lone tear rolled down his cheek, which he wiped away angrily before saying "not again. Oh god not again."

Stan looked about as bad as Marshall did. "Jesus… How did this happen?" he exclaimed, full of anger.

"I don't know," Marshall answered honestly, "I didn't like this, but I didn't think this would happen either."

Marshall's reply, however, wasn't even heard by Stan, because he was already calling in the situation to ABQPD. By the time Stan had hung up, they had reached Mary's house, and the police weren't far behind.

Marshall ran into the house, looking around desperately even though he knew that she wouldn't be there. Once he had established what he already knew-that she was gone- he looked around more closely, trying to find any clues as to where she ended up. All the while he was listening to any feedback from the wire, timing how long he thought they'd been in the car, and talking into Mary's earpiece even though he was pretty sure she was unconscious, otherwise she'd be fighting back.

His second sweep of his partner's house turned up the cloth that Raph had used to render Mary unconscious, confirming Marshall's original suspicion. Without touching it, so as to preserve any potential evidence, he kneeled down and took a small, careful smell. "Stan!" he called out "We've got chloroform."

Stan, still on the phone, followed Marshall's voice into Mary's living room. "Damnit." he cursed "He couldn't take her in a fair fight so he put her out of commission." He took a breath then forced his voice back to a thinly- controlled calm. "CSU is on the way, they might be able to-"

Marshall held up his hand, hearing something on the other end of the wire, and Stan immediately took the cue and stopped talking. "The car's stopped I think. That was…" he checked his watch "about fifteen minutes. That gives us some idea of how far they went."

Stan nodded. "Okay. Go back to the office, get a map, and start looking at possible locations. If you figure out where she is, call for backup and go. Don't wait for me."

Marshall nodded and was out the door practically before Stan even stopped talking. He tore through the lobby, muttering apologies to anyone who he knocked down. He debated taking the stairs rather than waiting for the elevator, but realized logically it would only feel like it was faster, and he didn't want to end up worn out.

When the elevator finally came, he paced inside the tiny box for the relative eternity it took to get to the top floor of the Sunshine Building. He was out of the elevator before the doors were fully open, and running into the office. Eleanor stood up immediately at the look on his face "Marshall, what the hell happened? Is Mary okay?"

He shook his head. "She was kidnapped" he said, his voice breaking, "I can't believe I let this happen again."

Eleanor sucked in a breath of shock and worry, grimacing at both the pain that Marshall was going through, as well as the obvious blame he was putting on himself, and in fear for the female inspector who she had managed to become tentative friends with in the past months. "Oh god… how did this happen?"

Marshall took a deep breath, and forced himself to control his emotions again. There would be time for that when Mary was safe again. He didn't let himself think about any other option- she would be okay. "The sting went bad. He must have snuck into her house without her knowing, then he snuck up behind her and knocked her out with chloroform. We…I… couldn't get there in time. They were already gone."

Eleanor didn't even think before enveloping Marshall in a hug. It was clearly meant only to provide friendship and comfort, which is exactly what it did. "It's not your fault, you know." Eleanor said quietly.

The usually unflappable US Marshal choked out one small sob. "I shouldn't have let her do it Eleanor… Or I should've been there. Damnit, then she'd be home safe, and this would all be over."

"There is no 'let' with Mary, she was going to do this, and she's lucky that she has such good friends looking for her. Marshall, we're GOING to bring her home." Marshall broke the contact and sat down at his computer, seemingly back to normal, although anyone who knew him would be able to see the tension in his facial features that seemed to radiate through his body like a never ending electric surge.

"They were in the car for approximately fifteen minutes, I'm going to use that timeframe to hopefully figure out where she is." Eleanor nodded, standing over Marshall's shoulder as he brought up a map. All of a sudden he heard a groaning sound through his earpiece, an indication that Mary was awake.

"Mare, I know you're awake. I promise you I'm going to find you and you're going to be okay." Mary came back into awareness to the sound of her partner's voice in her ear. She started, before remembering the earpiece.

She looked around. She was, once again, in a basement. _Jesus, what is it with criminals and basements? You'd think maybe the second time around I'd be kidnapped by someone with at least a fucking hint of originality._ She noticed two distinct differences between her previous kidnapping and the current one, however. First of all, both her guns were gone, which was bad. Second of all, she wasn't chained up, which was good. Oh and she still had means of communication, and for the moment, she was alone.

"Marshall…" she whispered, not wanting to be heard and potentially draw unwanted attention.

"Mary!" she heard her partner's relieved voice. "Where are you? Are you alone?"

She looked around her but could see no windows or any way of identifying where she was. "I don't know," she whispered, "but yes, I'm alone, for the time being."

"Are you hurt?"

She did a quick self- assessment. "No. I don't think so. I'm not restrained either. He must've thought the chloroform would hold me for a while longer than it did. I wonder if a person builds up a tolerance to the stuff or something."

Marshall breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, keep talking for as long as you can. Tell me what you see."

"I'm in a basement, again, no windows, stone foundation, there's a harsh smell in the air, like rotten eggs or something like that, the place is filthy…"

Marshall took stock of the information, latching onto the one thing that could prove useful. "Okay Mary, have you ever smelled sulfur before?"

She thought it over, head still somewhat foggy from the drugs but otherwise functional. "Tenth grade chemistry maybe. Why?"

"Do you remember what it smelled like?"

Mary thought about it, and made the connection. "YES! That's what the smell is. Its sulfuric. How fucking poetic, right?"

Marshall laughed, amazed at her ability to keep her good humor in a situation such as the one she was in. "It is rather perfect. Regardless though, that will help us find you. There can't be that many parts of Albuquerque where sulfur is common enough to make a smell that strong. I already have a time frame on your car ride, so between the two I should be able to narrow it down well enough to find you."

"Good, I- oh shit he's coming" Mary whispered harshly, making an attempt to mask her fear which, if Marshall hadn't known her quite so well, probably would've worked.

"Okay Mary, stay calm. I promise you we're coming for you." Marshall kept talking to her, knowing that there's no way anyone outside of Mary's ear could possibly hear his speech. "Try to keep him calm, but if you can fight your way out, do it."

"Who were you talking to?" Raph's voice, ripe with rage, was a shock to both Mary, and Marshall who had turned up his earpiece in order to hear Mary's barely-whispers. Marshall nearly fell out of his chair. Mary just stood where she was, looking defiant.

A/N: Well, that's it for this chapter. Next chapter the sh*t is gonna hit the fan even more than it already has. In the interim, please review!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: As usual, thank you to my reviewers. I love you guys! Anyway, here's the next chapter *cue ominous music*

Mary looked at Raph with absolute hatred in her eyes, refusing the let the terror she felt shine through. "I was talking to myself about how much of an absolute dick you are. I have a habit of talking to the smartest person in the room and you…. You just don't qualify. Deuchebag. You kidnapped a US Marshal. Why don't you explain to me how this ends well for you?"

Marshall sighed through the earpiece. "Mary, keep him CALM, not angry."

Raph was having none of it. "Don't lie to me Mary. You were talking to someone. Now, I know I took your cell phone, so how are you communicating with someone?"

He didn't wait for a response, instead proceeding to move straight towards Mary. She took a swing at him, hoping to keep the situation from going any further downhill, and her punch landed straight in the stomach, but it wasn't quite enough to deter the former athlete. He faked having the wind knocked out of him, before landing a swift blow to Mary's head. The hit was enough to knock her back down and while she lay on the stone floor reeling, he handcuffed her to a nearby pipe. "That," he said, "should stop you from escaping any time soon."

Then he went straight for Mary's shirt, ripping it off. "What're you doing?" Mary slurred, still a little confused from the hit to her head.

"I'm going to find whatever you were using to talk to whoever you were talking to, I'm assuming it's Marshall because he's the only person you EVER talk to, then I'm going to teach you how to be the good, obedient, wife I always wanted you to be." Raph said with a glint in his eye.

"Stay calm Mary" Marshall said in a tone that he hoped was reassuring, although he was shaking with fear and anger.

She tried to take a deep breath and see if she had any way out of the situation and realized that she really didn't. She had one punching hand, and even if she managed to get a good strike in it would only serve to make him angrier. So she lay there, feigning unconsciousness, hoping he would get bored and go away.

Raph made a sound of approval. "You're learning already… And don't bother pretending, Mary, I learned what that looked like a long time ago." Then he ripped off her shirt, exposing the wire. "A bug Mary? Really? You were trying to set me up! Well, that didn't work out too well for you, did it?" He ripped the wire off of her body and spoke into it. "Well, Marshall, looks like I won after all. I have her, and you don't. And you never will again. She is mine, and will be for the rest of her life. Not that that will be very long." Then he snapped the wire in half, breaking the connection.

"Mary," Marshall said through his microphone, "I don't know if you can still hear me but I'm gonna go on the assumption that you can. All I need you to do right now is stay calm, okay? I'm going to find you and we're gonna get you out of there. Eleanor and I are working on your location right now, so we just need you to hang on for a little while."

Marshall kept talking, and although the words stopped registering, his voice was something that Mary could latch onto in the following moments as Raph removed her clothing, despite her attempts to stop him. She gave up on being docile and tried to punch and kick every square inch of the man she could reach, knowing what was coming next, but it was an exercise in futility. It was easy enough for him to dodge her hits, as she was chained to a pipe which gave her extremely limited range, and he was strong enough to overpower her and hold her down.

"Stop fighting me Mary!" he shouted at her, "You've been fighting me for the entire time I've known you. You need to learn your place, and I'm going to teach it to you whether you like it or not."

He pinned down her remaining limbs and entered her unwilling body, the insane look in his eyes making it clear that he had had a full psychotic break and that the kind, mild-mannered man that Mary had ended up engaged to was actually just a cover personality for the sociopath within. Mary didn't give him the satisfaction of making her scream, but between the pain and the fundamental wrongness of the act, and her feelings of complete helplessness, she wanted to. Instead she listened only to Marshall's words, and tried to block out what was happening to her body, as she had done so many times in her childhood when Jinx's boyfriends decided to make her their latest punching bag, or when she offered herself up for the position to protect her baby sister from harm. Those men, however, had never crossed the line that Raph was crossing, and her defense mechanisms didn't hold up as well as she had hoped they would.

When he was done, he began yelling at her again. "Did you like that bitch? Huh? I know you did, that's the one thing you ever wanted me for, isn't it? To you I was just a good fuck right?"

She shook her head, trying to calm the raging man down enough that she could at least be sure he wouldn't kill her in the heat of the moment. "No, no, you were more than that to me."

He laughed manically, "But all along you were screwing your partner, weren't you? He was the one you really wanted, I was just a throwaway. He was the one you loved, and the one who got all the best parts of you. I was just the person you came home to, a stress release."

Mary, though she was scared of the man in front of her, couldn't let that go. It just wasn't in her personality. "I was not screwing Marshall Raph. And beyond that, you weren't a stress release, and honestly, you just made me MORE stressed. You couldn't leave me alone, you always had to know everything about my job, and you never once trusted me not to cheat on you. Probably your guilty conscience kicking in, huh?" She knew that what she was doing was stupid, but she couldn't help herself.

Raph stood up, drawing himself to full height in a subconscious attempt to declare his dominance, and anyone looking closely at him could see the glint in his eyes get just a little bit more pronounced, an indication of his increasing anger. "How DARE you?" he asked. "You deny that you've had a relationship with Marshall this entire time?" He stalked over to his pants, yanking them on and pulling a knife out of his pocket.

Mary, for her part, didn't miss a beat. "I never had a romantic relationship with Marshall, asswipe. What you thought you saw between us was the thing you and I never had: friendship, and trust."

That set Raph off, which, looking back, Mary realized had been a bad idea, but in order to keep her defense mechanisms intact it was the only thing she COULD do.

He apparently grew tired of verbally attacking his ex-fiance, and went back to the physical. This time, however, Mary could handle it. Though she could do little to block the knife strikes, the pain was only physical, which she was trained through her childhood and years in the Marshal Service to handle. And though it hurt, she just kept reminding herself that Marshall was looking for her, and she'd be able to escape soon.

After about twenty minutes of brutally attacking Mary with the knife, Raph must have gotten bored, because he tossed the weapon across the room, far out of her reach, and stormed up the stairs into what could be assumed was the house above. That left Mary alone with her thoughts, which was a terrifying thing, but it was better than the alternative. Her survival instinct kept her from reacting to the horrible events, but not from beginning to panic at her situation.

Marshall, meanwhile, was looking at a map. He had managed to figure out within about a mile radius where Mary was, and was trying to figure out which of the many houses in that area would be most ideal for holding a hostage. Finally, he spotted what he was looking for- a house, near enough to the sulfur spring that the smell would be as strong as he said it was, and at the very end of a dead end road, so cars wouldn't be inclined to drive by unless it was a deliberate act.

"Eleanor!" he shouted, "I think I found it!"

She rushed over, having been pouring over a map of her own for the past few moments. "Yeah," she agreed, "that looks like the right kind of place."

Marshall looked at her, considering. Stan had told him to bring backup, and there's no way he was going to take the time to find someone. "Back me up?" he asked.

She nodded. "Absolutely." She walked over to the cabinet where the tactical vests were kept, and strapped one on while tossing another to Marshall.

Marshall tentatively walked over to Mary's desk, finding where she kept her backup weapon. "You know how to shoot?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

She smirked. "I was married to an FBI agent for fifteen years Marshall, and by the end of those fifteen years I could shoot better than him."

He nodded and handed her, somewhat unwillingly, Mary's gun. "Marshall," Eleanor said quietly, "she's going to get it back. In person."

"Right." He said definitively, before speaking into the mic again. "Mary, we know where you are and we're coming for you. Just hold on for a little bit longer. We'll be there in ten minutes."

Mary, no longer being distracted by Raphael, actually registered Marshall's words, and clung to them. _Ten minutes,_ she thought, _I can handle that. Oh god but what if he comes back. I can't handle that again. Shut up Mary, you can deal with that later. _

So she sat on the cold basement floor, and somehow managed to get most of her clothes back on. Her pants were in reach, barely, although a shirt was out of the question with her arm handcuffed to a pipe, so she settled for just making herself somewhat more decent, despite the pain it caused her to dress.

When she was as dressed as she was going to get, she sat, as quietly as possible, hoping not to draw any more attention to herself, and counted the seconds.

A/N: Alright, well, that's that. A few more chapters, I think, after this one. Will Marshall get there before Mary has to endure any more torture? I wonder….

Anyway, please review!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Well, I published another one shot, so I figured I owed you guys an update, especially since I a) meant to write this about a week ago, and b) really want to get this done before I start school again in a week so I don't leave you guys on the hook for potentially months at a time.

Marshall was livid. Not angry, not even furious. He was livid, in a way that he had never been before in his life. Eleanor could feel his rage emanating from every pore in his body, and it both terrified her and made her extremely grateful that he was on her side.

They arrived at the house that Raph was holding Mary in, and Marshall barely even bothered to stop the car before jumping out of it, gun in hand. Eleanor grabbed the gearshift and shoved it into park so their vehicle wouldn't roll away in the middle of the bust before joining him. Together they sprinted up to the house, and Marshall kicked down the door, not bothering with formalities.

What he saw when the door came off the hinges and he found the door to the basement, ripping that open and sprinting down the stairs, was, however, enough to stop him in his tracks. Raphael was standing, with Mary in front of him, holding a gun to her head. He looked at her, and was absolutely horrified at what he saw. She was bleeding from multiple wounds, some superficial, others obviously not, she was half naked, and worst of all, her eyes were lacking the spark he had seen in them every day since he met her. That, more than anything, terrified him, because it made him realize that even if she made it out of that situation alive, _when she makes it out alive, _he corrected himself firmly, she might never be herself again.

"Don't come any closer!" Raphael screamed. Marshall signaled Eleanor to stop moving, and they both stood there, guns pointing at the man's head, waiting for him to make a mistake.

"Drop the gun Raph," Marshall said tersely, "this is already really bad, there's no reason to make it worse. No one needs to die here."

He shook his head. "Oh please. You expect me to believe that? I drop this gun, you're gonna kill me anyway."

"As much as you might deserve that," Marshall said slowly, "I really really like my job, and the Marshal's service tends to frown on committing murder. They also, it turns out, frown on killing one of their own. So there's really two ways out of here. You shoot her, I'll drop you where you stand. Or, you could put down the gun, and I'll put in a good word for you with the District Attorney. Maybe you'll live long enough to get out of prison someday."

That was the moment when Raph made a critical mistake. He moved the gun away from Mary, and pointed it at Marshall. "Shut up or I'll shoot you." he yelled. That was enough for Marshall. He waited a split second to line up his shot, and took it, dropping the Dominican man with a round in the head. Eleanor ran over to Raph to make sure he didn't still have a pulse, and Marshall ran over to Mary, who had dropped in a dead faint the moment the shot went off.

"Call a bus!" he shouted in Eleanor's general direction while gently trying to bring Mary back to consciousness. "Mare… you gotta come back now… it's okay, he's gone, he's not gonna hurt you anymore, but I need you to wake up now okay?"

She groaned quietly, and opened her eyes slightly. "Marshall?"

"I'm here Mary… It's all gonna be okay now. Can you tell me what happened?" Her eyes widened and she flinched.

His heart broke at her reaction, but he tried not to show it on his face. He needed to be strong for her right now. "He…he found the wire…it made him angry so he punished me…made me have sex with him…" she couldn't bring herself to say the word rape, even thinking it made her feel dirty and weak, "then he took out the knife…said he was gonna train me to be an obedient wife…he went upstairs so I tried to get dressed…then he heard a car on the street and ran downstairs with the gun, said if I tried to talk to you he'd shoot both of us, otherwise, he was gonna use me to get away and then we were gonna run away somewhere and I was gonna be his…slave or something… You know everything else. Oh god…" she turned on her side and threw up everything in her stomach.

He didn't dare to touch her for fear of startling her and making things worse, but he wanted to. Somehow, hearing what that man did to her made killing Raph not seem good enough. He wanted to empty his gun into the lifeless corpse, and worse than that. He wanted to hurt the man worse than Raph had hurt Mary. He wasn't good enough to die quickly.

He didn't have much time to contemplate this however, because a moment later Stan, the Paramedics, and half of the Albuquerque Police Department chose that moment to come bursting, loudly, into the house. The paramedics and Stan rushed over to Mary, while the police swarmed around the dead body and the rest of the crime scene.

A few moments later they had Mary loaded into the ambulance, and Marshall was climbing in after her. "I'll meet you there as soon as I'm done directing this mess," Stan stated, both relief and anger evident in his voice.

"I'll be right behind you," Eleanor said, although Marshall barely heard her, or anything else for that matter. He was focused on Mary, and what the paramedics were saying about her treatment.

Somewhere during the ride her respirations increased, along with her heart rate, and she ended up blacking out again. "What happened?" Marshall asked, terrified that something was horribly wrong.

One of the paramedics put his hand on Marshall's shoulder. "She's clearly been through a lot of trauma in the past few hours. This is her body's coping mechanism. It's just a panic attack, she'll be fine. I'm more worried about the potential tendon damage from the laceration to her ankle, and mainly about the psychological repercussions of the rape."

He nodded slowly. It was so much to process, and he couldn't even imagine what it was like for her. No wonder her brain shut off for a little bit.

They got to the hospital soon after, and Mary was brought into a room to perform the rape exam. Marshall was told to wait outside for privacy reasons. He was sitting in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs, staring at the wall, and fantasizing about what he would like to do to the deceased man who had inflicted that kind of torture on the woman he loved, when Eleanor caught up with them. "What's the word?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head. "I don't know yet. She didn't seem like herself in the basement, at all, and she had a panic attack and passed out in the ambulance."

"Well," Eleanor stated, "Post-traumatic stress is pretty much inevitable in a situation like this, I think she'll be okay eventually. Do we know anything about her physical condition yet?"

"Nothing definitive. None of her wounds seemed life threatening though." _Except the psychological ones_ he thought grimly. Despite his best attempts to keep them back since they walked into that house, the tears chose that moment to fall. "If I'd just kept her from doing the sting she never would've been in this situation….she never would've been raped… Or if I'd gotten there sooner…"

Eleanor stood up, and shook his shoulders firmly. "Marshall, listen to me- this is NOT your fault. You did everything you could to help her, and you saved her from that psychopath. Don't do that to yourself. When my John died, I blamed myself for months, and then I realized that nothing I could've done would've prevented it. It's the same with you. Raphael would've come after Mary, whether or not you did the setup. At least she could hear your voice during all of what she went through. At least she could communicate with you for a short time. That probably saved her. So please, don't blame yourself, because I don't want to watch you self destruct over something that you couldn't have done anything about."

He nodded. "I need to focus on her right now anyway, she's gonna need me right now."

"Yes, she is. And you're gonna need her too. Honestly, Marshall, I've seen the two of you get through things that I was sure would be impossible to come out ahead from. I've never seen a stronger partnership, or two stronger people. I think you'll both come out of this okay, I really do."

He half smiled at her. "Thanks, Eleanor."

They sat in comfortable silence for some unknown amount of time until the doctor emerged from Mary's room. "Family of Mary Sheppard?" she questioned to the room at large. Marshall and Eleanor stood up.

"Ms. Sheppard is physically alright, for the most part. I gave her stitches on three of the lacerations, the worst being the one to her ankle, which partially cut the tendon. She's going to have to stay off it for the time being until it heals properly. She also has some tearing as a result of the rape, but that will heal on its own in time. Psychologically she's experiencing the normal symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, and I've recommended to her that she see a psychologist and join a rape support group. She said the rapist used protection, but I gave her Plan B just in case, with her consent. Other than that, she has a fair amount of bruising on various parts of her body, but I don't think there's going to be any lasting physical damage. I'm releasing her shortly, as long as someone can take care of her for the first twenty four to forty eight hours, but you're welcome to visit her until I work up the release forms."

They breathed out a collective sigh of relief that it wasn't worse, and walked into her room.

A/N: Please review!


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